


d) I'm Sinning Right Now

by usoverlooked



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Casual Sex, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Past Character Death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 11:58:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,193
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5868523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/usoverlooked/pseuds/usoverlooked
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raven's never had much luck with casual sex, but maybe Octavia will change that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	d) I'm Sinning Right Now

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to Rachel, for being supportive and helping me edit this mess.

“I never said it, all those months ago. Welcome to the dead boyfriend club,” Raven says.

In the dark, Octavia can just make out the bottle the Raven holds out to her. She takes it, takes a long gulp. It stings all the way down her throat, settles in her gut like an anchor. Lincoln died months ago, yet it still hurts to think of. For the most part, she’s doing all right, she thinks. But today, for whatever reason, was hard. She keeps the bottle, turns to look at Raven. The fire lights her face, the still drying cut on her forehead shiny with blood. Her expression is inscrutable, all hardened by the dark or life. It’s impossible for Octavia to decipher which.

“It’s shitty.” She says, after a too long moment. Raven murmurs agreement, reaches out for the bottle. Octavia passes it, watches Raven’s throat when she takes a swig from it. She can only just make it out in the firelight.

“Yup,” Raven says, succinct in the answer.

“No advice for dealing with it?” Octavia asks. It comes out wrong, all harsh angles. Briefly, she wonders when she became this thing. This person who asks questions with teeth, who waits for flinches in response. It scares her, almost. Or it would if she’d let it.

“Nope,” Raven says. She pulls on her ponytail, something like a nervous habit. “Tried meaningless sex, but that didn’t work.”

“Well, was it good sex?” Octavia asks, the bite in it not lost on Raven who smirks in response.

“Not good enough.” Raven says. She hands the bottle over again, and Octavia takes a drink. When she hands it back to Raven, she moves with the bottle, slides until her knee bumps Raven’s good one. Raven’s bad leg is straightened, her foot just barely out of the fire. Octavia watches the flames, the way they seem to reach for the Raven’s foot. Raven could move it. Anyone else would ask her to move. Octavia gets it. Octavia feels dangerously close to standing in the fire herself.

“So if the sex was good, it’d work?” Octavia asks. It isn’t dangling her foot over fire, but it feels like something close to it. Raven turns her head to face Octavia. Her eyes dance along her face.

“That’s a theory,” Raven says. She raises an eyebrow. It’s the question, as close as either of them are going to come to it. It’s not what Octavia thought would happen, but she’s not – she sees something in Raven that feels familiar.

So, Octavia decides wraps a hand around the back of Raven’s neck. She hesitates, for a second, before leaning in the rest of the way. Raven tastes like moonshine and her lips are chapped, but it’s a good kiss. Raven’s hands find Octavia’s waist, her thumbs settling on her hipbones. She presses them down, and something in Octavia wants her to push hard enough to bruise.

Octavia pulls back, hears Raven swallow. She can see it in the look on Raven’s face – she’s expecting a brush-off.

“Come back to my tent,” Octavia says. It’s not a request, but it’s not a demand. She’s not sure what it is. Either way, Raven agrees, stumbling to her feet. Her bad leg slows them down some, and there’s something pointed in the way they keep their hands to themselves as they go. Octavia can feel it, just there between them, and whatever it is should not be exposed out in the open like this.

Raven freezes once they get inside the tent. Octavia reaches for her hand, fits her fingers neatly around Raven’s wrist. She pulls Raven toward the bed, falls backwards onto it. Raven smirks down at her for a moment, her free hand going to Octavia’s hair. She tucks it behind Octavia’s ear.

“You ever done this before?” Raven asks, voice too gentle. Octavia moves to sit on her knees, sits up on them until she’s at eye level with Raven. Then, she lets go of Raven’s hand and tugs her shirt over her head.

“I’m a fast learner,” Octavia says, dropping the shirt on the ground. Raven reaches forward, grabs Octavia’s chin. For just a second, she looks at Octavia. Octavia has to swallow the urge to squirm.

Finally, Raven moves in. She bites Octavia’s lower lip when she kisses her and something about it feels right. Octavia moves back, falls onto her back. Raven follows, settling her weight between Octavia’s legs. Her hands trace Octavia’s ribs, one going back to touch the bones in her spine. It churns something deep in Octavia, makes her mind turn to fuzz. Raven pulls back from the kiss, moves to Octavia’s collarbone. She grins up, then bites down, teeth dragging just shy of painful along the skin. Octavia’s hips jerk up, and she’s almost embarrassed by it. Raven seems fully put together.

Octavia wraps a hand around Raven’s ponytail and yanks, pulls the other down. Raven’s smirk falls to something else, something that feels earned and private and _good_. Raven cups Octavia’s breasts in each of her hands. Then, she stops. Octavia looks down at her, waits. Raven just stares back, something close to a dare on her face. Octavia swallows, watches as Raven moves her thumbs. She just brushes them over her nipples, nowhere near enough of anything. Octavia fidgets, tries to get something more there. Raven leans down, eyes still locked on Octavia. She sucks one nipple into her mouth, tongue running around it. Octavia tries to hold her gaze. Raven’s mouth slides down to the valley between her breasts and then sucks hard enough to leave a mark and Octavia groans with it, her head falling back.

Octavia reaches to pull Raven’s shirt off, but the Raven shakes her head. Octavia doesn’t question it, can’t quite think how to do that when Raven leans up and traces the line of Octavia’s shoulder with her tongue. Instead, Octavia slides a hand up Raven’s shirt, slips it under the bra there. Raven hisses when Octavia rubs at her nipple.

For a moment, Raven just breathes, the sound rough and loud and wonderful in the quiet tent. Octavia takes the chance to pull her knee up between Raven’s. As hoped, Raven groans, the sound dissolving almost to a laugh as Octavia flattens a hand on Raven’s back, pushing her even closer. Then, Raven grinds back, leaning up on her arms enough to look Octavia in the eyes. There’s something dangerous in the look, her face just there. When Octavia moves to lean up to kiss her, Raven shakes her head. She frames Octavia’s face with her hands, then leans down and kisses her. It’s demanding, the way she pushes Octavia’s mouth open under her own and Octavia loses herself in it. Raven moves from over her to laying next to her. She moves one hand from Octavia’s face to the button on her jeans, then pulls back. Octavia blinks at her.

“Tell me if this is okay,” Raven says, voice thick. The way she sounds – Octavia wants more of it, that voice that sounds like pure desire. She nods, watches Raven’s face as she does. Raven nods back, her thumb brushing over Octavia’s mouth. The button undoes easily and the sound of the zipper as it goes is too much in the quiet. Octavia reaches out, pulls Raven’s face to hers again. Octavia moves for Raven’s jeans and is surprised when Raven stops her.

“You first,” Raven says, something desperate in it. Her hand reaches into Octavia’s underwear, her knuckles brushing against her core. Octavia gasps at it, shifts her hips. Raven leans in, kisses her again.

Raven’s fingers are slim, the first sliding in so easily Octavia wonders passingly if she should be embarrassed. The look on Raven’s face, all awe and want, puts the thought out of her head. Raven adds another finger, then curls the pair as she pumps them. Octavia bites her lip hard enough to draw blood when Raven’s thumb finds her clit.

Octavia feels her eyes shut with it, the way they always do when she gets anywhere near coming. Raven breathes out next to her, the huff something close to a laugh.

“You can – if you, talked.” Octavia manages.

“Seriously?” Raven asks. It’s all Octavia can do to nod. Something about that voice, the way it’s so clearly Raven, yet so not. Her legs splay even wider with the sound of it and she opens her eyes. Raven’s face is bare, the pure desire on it. “You like my voice. God, Tavi, that’s-“

Raven stops, leans in and kisses her. It’s like it’s the only thing Raven can do, the thing she needs most. And something about it, the nickname, the kiss, has Octavia falling apart. She hears herself cry out with it.

It takes her a moment to come back to herself and when she does, Raven’s smiling at her. She looks almost too proud of herself, so Octavia rolls over and wraps a hand around Raven’s hip. Octavia scoots down to it, drops a kiss on the jut of the hipbone there. Then, she bites down on it, sucking until there’s a mark when she pulls back. Raven’s breathing goes rough again.

“God, Tavi,” she says, voice low. Something about it seems like she knows what the nickname does and Octavia unbuttons Raven’s jeans, undoes the zipper, all so she doesn’t have to think about how easily this woman knows her.

Raven shimmies her pants down to her knees. The brace stops it there and Octavia feels the way Raven freezes with it. So, Octavia moves her hand, traces circles onto the inside of Raven’s thighs until Raven’s squirming with it. She moves to lie between Raven’s knees.

“What do you want?” Octavia asks, her hands splayed on Raven’s thighs, just before her underwear. Raven looks down at her. Her eyes are dark and it makes Octavia squirm, the want in it.

“Just – I’ll stop you if it’s bad,” Raven says, finally. There’s a blush creeping up from her chest and it makes Octavia happy, to see her that undone already. She keeps looking at Raven, even as she moves her hands.

With one hand, she pulls aside the underwear, with the other, she reaches inside. Raven gasps with it, head dropping back onto the pillow. Her good leg jerks onto Octavia, pinning her in, when Octavia begins to pump her fingers. Raven drops a hand onto the hand holding her underwear aside, the action strangely intimate in all this. Octavia stops after a few moments, looks up at Raven.

“I’ve never eaten a girl out before,” she says, the question unspoken. Raven nods at her, helps her pull the underwear down.

For a moment, Octavia just hovers there. She moves her hand back in, fingers fitting in Raven easily. Raven shudders out a breath when Octavia leans down. Octavia freezes there, looks up and grins.

“Tease,” Raven moans, no real heat behind it. Octavia moves the rest of the way, drops her mouth onto Raven’s clit. At first, she just licks at it, until Raven nudges her with her foot. “Suck, I like – that’s- oh.”

Raven goes wordless when Octavia does as she says. It doesn’t take long, after, until Raven falls apart, clenching around Octavia’s fingers. Octavia sits up, wipes her mouth on the back of her hand.

Octavia moves to lay on her side next to Raven. Raven blinks up at the ceiling for a moment.

“Theory proven?” Octavia asks. Raven laughs her wonderful laugh, her face lighting up with it.

“For me, yeah,” Raven says. She turns her head to look at Octavia. She raises one eyebrow. “You?”

Octavia considers it. “Well, maybe.”

Raven scoffs. “Only _maybe_?”

“I think we’ll have to do the research again. And again, and-“ Octavia stops when Raven smacks her shoulder. She smiles. It feels practically foreign. It’s been months since Lincoln died, but most days it’s still hard. She looks at Raven. “I don’t – you shouldn’t expect a declaration of love.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” Raven says, rolling her eyes. Octavia laughs, happy with it. Raven stretches out, then sits up. “I should go.”

“You should stay,” Octavia says. She grins, raises her eyebrows. “Neither of us work till the afternoon tomorrow.”

Raven tilts her head, considers it. “We should do research in other conditions. For accurate results.”

“Right, for accuracy,” Octavia agrees. Raven flops back down.

“Raven?” Octavia asks, after a long moment. Raven blinks at her. “Does it get easier?”

Raven rolls onto her back, looks up at the ceiling. “It takes time. But yeah, it does.”

“Good,” Octavia says, for lack of anything else to say. Octavia doesn’t curl into Raven, doesn’t rest her head on the Raven’s shoulder. It doesn’t seem right, not for whatever they are. Her hand bumps against Raven’s and after a moment’s consideration, she twines their fingers together.

In the morning, both of them have rolled apart. Raven’s thrown her arm over her face, and Octavia wakes up curled onto her side, back to Raven. Still, when Octavia wakes up, Raven’s there. It’s all she needs.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first smut so if you have any pointers or thoughts on it, feel free to share! I have a vague idea for a continuation of this, but you let me know - it could definitely end up being its own fic. Anyway! Would love feedback, and as always, feel free to talk to me @masonjo on tumblr.


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